"Goin' Home, Goin' Home...."

If I could somehow teeter-totter with myself, I think you would be impressed with just how level the board gets as we two sit facing each other static, our feet not touching the ground.

Now before you scoff at this counter-brilliance, please keep in mind there are other items than physical weight and gravity that need balancing. Emotions, for one thing. And for the past two days my emotions have teeter-tottered terribly--one instant I sitting on the ground; the next instant I sitting way up high.

You see, in Marine Corps terminology, I/we (Sister O'Dell and I) are "short-timers," meaning we can see departure day hard ahead. At face value that seems desirable. And when I allow myself thinking about it, it is desirable--our daughter's family; our son's family; our home; our garden; our wood shop; our friends; our familiar surroundings, etc., etc.

Those are the times I sit way up high looking around. And then the "other me" slips off his seat and lets the "real me" down! I land, the "real me" does, "ker-THUD!" So while that "other me" chortles and points, the "real me" sits grounded and stunned, wondering if he really wants being airborn again.

And so bewildered I ask, "do we really want to return home...?"